


Can't Stay Away For Too Long

by stiless__halee



Series: Immortality is a Bitch [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, One-Sided Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Resurrection, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Torture, stiles is immortal, stiles pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:04:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3489284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiless__halee/pseuds/stiless__halee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn't know why, but he never stays dead for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Stay Away For Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I kept thinking of... An immortal Stiles.

When Stiles is thirteen, he takes his bike and a few old comic books and rides down the lake. Nobody else is there, and he relishes in the peace and quiet as he settles down in the sand. He makes it halfway through his Captain America comic before his ADHD kicks in. There's something shining over by the rocks, and despite his best efforts to ignore it, his gaze keeps drifting back over to it. After his twelfth time of lowering his comic to squint at the rocks, he decides that there's no harm in going over there to investigate.

He walks over slowly, peering at the jagged stones. Tentatively, he steps on the first rock. He struggles to maintain his balance, but once he's confident that he can stand up straight without wobbling, he slowly creeps forward. He can spot the shining object a few more feet in front of him, and he moves faster, eager to finally identify it.

Once he makes it to the object, he's disappointed to find out that it's just a gold, heart shaped necklace. He had hoped that it would be something valuable like a lost treasure or key that lead somewhere mysterious, but no, he's stuck with a stupid necklace. Deciding, that he might as well take the necklace since he walked all the way out here for it, he bends over to snatch it up.

The necklace looks better against the palm of his hand than it did on the rocks, and Stiles starts to wonder if he has enough time to swing by the pawn shop on his way home. As he turns over the thoughts about how much money he can get for the necklace, he steps on an unstable rock. The stone slides from under his foot and he flails his arms out, hoping to catch himself. Somehow his flailing has only managed to spin him around so that he's falling face first instead of backwards. On his way down, his head smashes against a rock so hard that he hears something crack.

When Stiles wakes up, it's dark outside. He's lying on the sand, soaking wet and shivering despite having no recollection of ever getting in the water. He slowly pushes himself up, staring in horror at the dark red patch that's collected on the sand under his head. His hand flies to his forehead, feeling around for the cut that he knows has to be there. When he can't feel any type of cut or bump his forehead, he slowly searches all around, cursing when there's no evidence of him ever hitting his head.

He looks back at the rocks, blanching when he sees a blood stain. But how -- he must've been out there on the rocks and then... and then what?

Stiles shakes his head struggling to remember what happened. He knows that he saw something over on the rocks, and that he went to investigate. He eyes the gold necklace lying on the sand next to him, and everything clicks into place. He had been trying to grab the necklace when he fell. He must've hit his head on the rock and then his body floated back over to the sand, but if he was hit that hard where he lost this much blood, shouldn't he have died? If not from the impact of the rocks, then from drowning in the water afterwards, right?

The thought makes him feel cold all over. There's no way that he could've died because he's standing perfectly healthy and all in one piece. But there's a small part of him that's reminding him that there's also no way he could've survived that.

Starting to feel nauseous, Stiles snatches up the necklace, stomps back over to his stuff, then bikes home.

When he gets back, the house is still empty -- his dad must be working a late shift -- and for once, he's grateful. He drops his comic books onto the kitchen table then races up the stairs. He immediately goes into his bathroom, freezing when he sees his forehead. Despite not having a single wound on him, the front of his head is covered in blood.

With shaky hands, he washes off his face. He scrubs until the water no longer turns red and his face is pink and puffy. After his face his clean, he stares at his reflection for half an hour, still haunted by how he looked covered in blood.

Stiles plans to never speak or think about the incident, and somehow he manages to carry on with his life.

 

It isn't until two and a half years later when he's looking for a dead body with Scott that it happens again.

Stiles and Scott get separated when his dad catches Stiles at the crime scene. He doesn't see where Scott runs off to, but he manages to convince his dad that Scott's still at home before he's being driven back to his jeep by his dad. His dad watches Stiles clamber into his car, and then he's driving off to head back to the crime scene.

Stiles sits in his jeep until his dad's taillights disappear around a bend in the road, then he's scrambling out of the car. He stumbles into the woods, squinting into the darkness.

"Scott," he calls out.

There's no reply and he curses, carefully walking back to where he had last seen him.

This time he's careful to avoid the police officers who are patrolling the woods. He ducks behind trees, and hides in the shadows as moves deeper and deeper into the preserve. He's whispering Scott's name harshly now. How far can an asthmatic kid run?

Stiles hears a howl echo around the trees, and he freezes. He knows with absolute certainty that the howl was from a wolf, but he also knows with absolute certainty that there haven't been wolves in Beacon Hills for _years_. He's torn between searching for the wolf just to make sure it's not some other weird predator and just running back to his jeep.

Apparently, his self preservation skills are dismal because he's stumbling deeper into the woods heading to where he thinks the howl came from. He's still whispering Scott's name, hoping that whatever animal was out here didn't maul him to death.

His whispering must've drawn the animal closer because up ahead he can see a pair of glowing, red eyes staring at him. Stiles's body tenses up, and he takes a slow step back. He isn't sure what he's looking at, but he's positive that it's something extremely deadly.

The animal's eyes slowly get higher and higher until they're towering above Stiles by at least two feet. By now, Stiles is positive that he's going to die, so he does what anyone else would do. He runs.

Hoping he's going to where he left his jeep, he forces himself to move faster. Behind him, he can hear the animal's feet (hooves? paws?) thudding behind him. Each time the thing takes a step, Stiles swears the ground shakes a little. The thing release's a low growl and Stiles can feel its breath on the back of his neck.

Distracted, he trips over a tree branch. The minute he hits the ground, the animal has it's jaws locked around Stiles's arm. It bites him, and he screams, the pain shooting from his arm all over his body. The animal clamps its jaws down tighter then releases him, taking one sniff before howling and disappearing into the night.

Stiles lies there his body wracked with pain. It's getting harder for him to breathe, and he feels as though he's drowning. Somehow, he's managed to roll over and he promptly vomits, black liquid shooting out of his mouth. The air smells like death, and it forces Stiles to vomit more of the black liquid.

The liquid is running down Stiles's nose now, and he can't breathe without choking on the stuff. He's not sure what's happening to him, but he's sure that it's bad. He collapses on the ground, too weak to hold himself up. He's still excreting black stuff; at this point, he's positive he's even crying the stuff out. One final wave of nausea rolls over him, and he vomits again before everything goes black.

The next morning when he wakes up, his face is coated with the black liquid. It's dry and crusted, and smells gross. Naturally, Stiles picks at it the entire time he's heading home. Later, when he stands in front of the mirror, he remembers when he was younger and had smashed his head in while at the lake. This time, seeing the black liquid instead of blood, scares him more.

He showers, standing under the spray for twenty minutes before he gathers the courage to check his arm. What he sees makes his heart stop. The skin is smooth and unblemished, and Stiles could've swore that the animal had bit him there last night. He remembers the pain, the blood, and the black liquid, but his arm looks as though nothing had happened. Stiles stumbles out of the shower, examining his arm in front of the mirror. Nothing's changed. The skin is still pale, smooth, and lacking a bite mark.

Stiles squints at his arm, frowning as he dries off. He starts to dry his legs, and freezes when he sees the skin on his knees are also free from scars. He knows there should be large ugly scars from when he fell while skateboarding last month, but nothing is there. Panicking at his lack of scars, he searches all over his body. The scratches from babysitting Mrs. Wallace's cat? Gone. The scar from his car accident? Gone. The weird cut on his jaw from when Greenburg hit him with a lacrosse stick? Fucking gone.

Stiles heads into his bedroom, firing up his laptop. He starts by researching everything he knows about the animal that bit him: the red glowing eyes, the huge form, the howling. He nearly passes out when everything he searches leads him back to the same answer. He stares at his screen in shock, shaking his head because there is no way that he was attacked by a werewolf. Werewolves didn't exist. They _couldn't_ exist. 

Swallowing down his panic, Stiles researches werewolf bites. He grows nauseas when he sees diagrams of men slowly changing into werewolves, wolves tearing each other apart, and a drawing of a hulking figure with eyes that are identical to the ones he saw last night. He keeps researching, freezing as he lands on a page that shows a huge illustration of a man with black liquid oozing out of his ears, eyes, mouth, and nose. The man is reminding Stiles too much of last night, and the caption confirms all of his fears:

THE DEADLY RESULT OF FAILED WEREWOLF BITES

The article he reads explains how the bite only works occasionally, and when it doesn't...

Stiles shudders, his mind helpfully reminding him of the incident at the lake because of course, he died last night, and he died two and a half years ago. And of course, for some odd reason, he kept coming back to life after he died. He was damn sure that being able to come back from the dead wasn't a normal thing, but he had no clue why he was different.

Still too terrified to really think of the fact that he might be immortal, Stiles deletes his search history then heads off to school.

 

Apparently, Scott has been bitten by the wolf too, and somehow all the clues are telling them that it's Derek Hale's fault. Then all the clues start to point to Derek's crazy uncle, Peter. When Stiles is reunited with Peter, the older man looks shocked that Stiles survived that night in the woods, then he looks amused, and finally, he attempts to claw Stiles's throat out.

Somehow, they manage to end Peter. And despite the fact that Peter comes back to life, Stiles is pleased that he had the opportunity to watch Peter die.

 

Afterwards, he and Derek become friends. It's weird that he's so close to his murderer's nephew, but Derek's kind of nice, so Stiles tries not to think about it. Instead, he focuses on the trying to soak up as much information as he can about Derek. Like how he only watches romantic comedies and horror movies. How he still wrinkles his nose when Peter walks into a room. How when he's around his Beta's, he allows himself to soften up around the edges.

He and Derek talk more often too. Stiles sits and complains about high school, and Derek complains about his Betas. It's nice to talk to someone who can have a conversation about something other than Allison's dimples.

When Derek starts to come over to research more about the kanima, Stiles just settles in beside him on the sofa. He watches Derek scribble down some notes, and before he can stop himself, he's asking questions.

"Have you ever bit someone and it went horribly wrong?" Stiles asks quietly.

Derek tenses up, looking at Stiles out of the corner of his eyes. "Does this have anything to do with how Peter bit Lydia?"

"No," Stiles shakes his head. He doesn't have the heart to mention that it was about when Peter bit him the same night that Scott was turned. "Just... have you ever bit someone and they started vomiting up some weird black liquid."

Derek isn't pretending to look at the computer screen anymore. He's openly staring at Stiles, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"You know how Scott was bit," Stiles tries again. "What if someone else was bit too? But what if... they didn't... turn?"

"Are you saying Peter tried to turn someone else?" Derek speaks slowly. His voice is so deep that it's borderline growl, and Stiles isn't sure if he's scared or turned on.

Stiles nods his head. "When Scott and I were looking for Laura, I was supposed to go home, but I felt bad about leaving Scott." He pauses. He isn't sure why he's telling this to Derek. He hasn't even told Scott about his immortality. "While I was out there, Peter bit me."

Derek opens his mouth to interject, but Stiles barrels on.

"I didn't react like Scott. I got sick. Really sick," he swallows. "I started vomiting and this black stuff was everywhere, and I think I died."

When Stiles looks at Derek, the older man is frowning.

"If you died, how are you here right now?" Derek questions. 

"Because I can't die," Stiles whines. He fidgets in his seat, wondering why he didn't just shut up already. "When I was thirteen, I smashed my head in on some rocks down by the lake. I should've died; maybe I did die, but eventually, I came back to life."

When Derek tries to interrupt, Stiles raises a hand to stop him.

"And then, Peter figured out that I can't die. A little while ago, he cornered me asking if I wanted the bite again," Stiles whispers. "When I said no, he mentioned that he was curious about me. He said that he thought he figured out my secret." There's a heavy silence. "Then he clawed my throat out."

"Okay," Derek stands, closing Stiles's computer and snatching up his notes. "Stiles, this joke of yours is ridiculous."

Stiles stands, a frown set on his lips. Great. He finally admits that he's immortal and Derek doesn't even believe him.

"I'm telling the truth," Stiles protests.

Derek snorts. "When people die, they stay dead," he says it bitterly, and Stiles looks away. "When you're sick of this weird joke, you can call me."

Derek storms out of the room, leaving Stiles alone. Stiles feels the urge to run outside and apologize, but he stamps it down. It doesn't matter what he says; Derek will never believe him. Maybe it's better that way.

 

Derek doesn't stop avoiding Stiles until after everything with Gerard and the kanima has been sorted out. But even then, he just stops by to ask for some help researching before he's disappearing to wherever he's been living.

The next time Stiles does get to spend a considerable amount of time with Derek it's because the two of them are tied up in an abandoned cellar. They've both been kidnapped by the alpha pack, and Stiles is positive that the alpha pack is going to force Derek to kill him. The thought relaxes him. If Derek kills him, the alpha pack will release them, and then Stiles will just wake up a few hours later (and isn't it sad that the best case scenario involves Stiles dying).

So Stiles patiently awaits death, forcing himself to frown when Deucalion walks in, flanked by Kali. Derek tries to lunge at them, but the chains on the wall keep him from going anywhere. Derek spends a little bit longer snarling and snapping his teeth at them before he grows still.

Kali smirks, striding confidently over to Stiles. She wraps her hand around his neck, cutting off his air supply as she forces him to stand. Once he's on his feet, her grip loosens enough for him to start gasping for air. Behind him, Deucalion chuckles, his can scraping against the floor as he walks forward. He gives Kali a subtle head nod, and her nails lengthen, breaking Stiles skin. Stiles squirms, but that only causes the claws to go in deeper. Eventually, he settles for standing still and trying to ignore the way his neck is starting to burn.

Derek watches Kali, his eyes focused on Stiles's neck. He wants to say something to reassure Derek, but the alpha looks so angry that Stiles is sure anything he says will just make him more blood thirsty.

"Here's how things are going to go," Kali hisses, her nails momentarily digging deeper into Stiles's neck. "Deucalion will ask a question. You will answer. If you fail to answer, well."

Kali's free hand slowly creeps up Stiles's arm, a long nail teasing the skin. Before he can make a sarcastic remark, her nail is digging into the skin. He can feel her finger push deeper, breaking through muscle and almost touching the bone. She holds the finger there for another moment then slowly pulls it out.

Stiles is sweating by the time it's over. He can feel blood dripping down his arm, and he closes his eyes.

"Where's the other Betas?" Deucalion asks. His voice sounds calm in comparison to Kali's excited threats.

Stiles opens his eyes, subtly shaking his head at Derek. Derek glances at Stiles then turns to face Deucalion. He can see the conflict on Derek's face. He either lets Stiles get tortured or he allows his Betas to get killed. Stiles can only pray that Derek values his Betas more than he values Stiles. It would kill him if Scott or Boyd or Cora got hurt because Derek tried to save Stiles.

"I don't know," Derek spits out between clenched teeth.

Kali pauses to tilt her head, presumably to listen to his heartbeat. She asks him to repeat the answer and when he does, she grins -- he's lying. Her nail digs into Stiles's flesh again, making a new cut. Stiles can't help but scream a little as she makes this cut bigger than the last.

Derek whines at the noise Stiles makes. He looks frantic, and Stiles watches as he struggles to yank the chains out of the wall.

"C'mon, Derek," Kali urges. She pulls Stiles closer to her body, her bloody finger traveling up and down his arm. She pushes the tip of her nail in, and Stiles shivers. "Don't let your pet get hurt like this," her nail is slowly going deeper, and Stiles whimpers, tears flowing down his face.

Why couldn't they just kill him?

"I don't know," Derek screams. He yanks on the chains again as she drives her finger into Stiles's flesh. By now, Stiles is squirming, trying to get his arm away from Kali. His wiggling is only causing the nails in his neck to go deeper, and he whimpers.

"Please," Derek is on his knees begging. He looks back and forth between Kali and Deucalion, hoping to find some sympathy. "Please, I don't know. I don't know. Just let him go."

Deucalion shakes his head, and Kali takes the time to retract her claws from the back of Stiles's neck. Derek's about to thank her, but she's wraps her hand around Stiles's throat. Derek watches as she gently strokes his throat, her eyes greedily drinking in Derek's pain.

"I'll do anything," Derek pleads.

Stiles shakes his head, willing Derek to be strong.

"Just let him go," Derek's voice cracks, and if Stiles didn't know any better, he'd say that Derek is on the verge of tears.

"Kill him," Deucalion orders Kali. He looks at Derek as though he's disappointed that an alpha can be so weak. "Let him sit with the body for a few days. We'll come back with his sister. He might be more willing to talk if she's the one getting tortured."

Stiles feels Kali place her hands on either side of his head, and he sighs in relief. Finally.

 

When he wakes up, Derek's laughing. He looks like he's gone insane, his eyes wide, and his hair sticking out in every direction. He's laughing so hard that tears are spilling out of his eyes on running down his face. Stiles wants to go over and say something, but the door is opening and Kali is walking in. He looks at her, and she freezes, her eyes wide with fear.

"You didn't die," she mutters. She crosses the room quickly, yanking him to his feet. He stands rigidly as she examines his neck. He knows that she'll probably find some blood, but no scars or marks.

Grinning, she calls Deucalion into the room. The alpha strides in, faltering when he notices Stiles. He takes a moment to examine Stiles the same way Kali did, checking his neck for any scars or marks. When he doesn't find any, he smiles. The action is unsettling, and Stiles has to look away.

"You might be useful after all," Deucalion notes. He cups Stiles's jaw, his thumb affectionately sweeping over the skin.

"Are you getting off on this?" Stiles blurts out, his voice layered with disgust. In hindsight, it's a dumb thing for him to say to a psychotic alpha werewolf, but Stiles isn't known for his self preservation skills.

Deucalion laughs then crushes Stiles's jaw. Through the mind numbing pain, he can hear Derek protesting only to be hit by Kali. He cradles his face, wincing as blood dribbles down his chin.

"He heals all his wounds when he dies, correct?" he hears Deucalion ask.

Kali must've nodded because he can feel Deucalion's claws ripping through his side. Stiles gasps, falling to the ground. He's struggling to remain conscious through the pain, and he can see Deucalion's shoes walk into his line of sight. His vision fades for a moment and when it comes back, Deucalion is gripping Stiles's head.

"I wonder if he can heal a decapitated head."

He feels Kali's hands rest on his shoulder, and then his neck is stretching upwards. The stretch gets painful after a moment, and he starts screaming, begging for them to _please_ stop. Kali just laughs in response. Deucalion lets out a low chuckle as well, and before Stiles can protest again, everything goes black.

Stiles wakes up slowly. His neck feels sore, and he can't help but shudder as he tentatively touches the area. The skin is smooth, unblemished, and he knows that if he had a mirror, it wouldn't look as though he had just been decapitated. Once he's done checking himself out, he turns to Derek who's eyes are glazed over.

"I didn't think you would recover from that," Derek admits. He slowly reaches his hand out to touch Stiles's neck. "I had to hold your head to your neck before you started to heal."

Stiles cringes at the thought. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," Derek curls his hand tighter around Stiles's neck. Stiles moves closer to Derek, curling up by his side. Derek's hands shake as he strokes Stiles's nape.

"How long was I gone?" Stiles asks quietly.

Derek sighs, closing his eyes. "A day."

"Oh," Stiles swallows. He's never been dead that long before. He usually dies and wakes up a few hours later. Maybe it's because his body had more to heal.

"Yeah," Derek murmurs. "I'm going to kill them when we get out of here."

Stiles nods his head. Dying had never been so... painful. His other deaths had been quick, but this one was long and drawn out. Was there a point where his body would just give up? For a second, Stiles wishes he could stay dead.

Over the course of the next two days, Stiles spends more time dead than alive. Every time Stiles would come back, Deucalion would cross something off a list then have Kali kill him another way. He's been burned, had various body parts ripped off, and even drained of blood, but without fail he would always wake up. Eventually, (and Stiles doesn't know how much this should worry him), he just stops dying.

Deucalion laughs when he slices Stiles in half, and Stiles just blinks up at him before shuffling around to grab the lower half of his body and reattach it. Derek watches with fear, cringing each time Stiles is forced to slowly piece together his body.

Around the forth time, Stiles is attempting to reattach his head without dropping it, they hear something crashing upstairs. Stiles sets his head on top of his shoulders, sighing in relief when he feels the skin start to knit together. Derek watches him silently, before closing his eyes and tilting his head so he can listen.

"Scott is here."


End file.
